


Realisations and Kindness

by Diary



Category: London Spy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Bechdel Test Fail, Bottle Episode Fic, Canon Gay Character, Coffee, Conversations, Friendship/Love, Gen, POV Danny Holt, POV Male Character, POV Queer Character, Stealth Crossover, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 05:52:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6226477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diary/pseuds/Diary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Danny works in a café near the MI6 building. He and Alex slowly get to know each other. Complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Realisations and Kindness

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own London Spy.

“We get a lot of spooks here,” is one of the first things Danny was told.

He tries not to think about it. His job at the warehouse didn’t work out, and while his less-than-legal methods of getting money are always a default option, they’re also something he’d like to fully put behind him. Whatever he personally thinks should be legal or not, he doesn’t want to be the person a large chunk of society looks down on anymore.

Some part of him knows he always will be, but his dreams are one thing he’s never been completely willing to give up.

Despite trying not to think about it, Danny now understands what Scottie meant by declaring he (Scottie) can recognise one by their walk. After less than a month, Danny can, too, and he wishes Scottie weren’t in America so he could tell him.

He’s also curious if Scottie could recognise one in a wheelchair. There might be some things the blind, deaf, and so on can’t do, but surely, there are spies who aren’t the fit, confident type who routinely come into the café.

The door opens, and looking up, he feels a strange, warmly pleasant sensation go through his body.

The man who just walked in is MI6, but in some way Danny can’t define, he’s different.

Dressed in black and grey, his immaculate suit subtly shows off the nice body it houses, and he walks with easy detachment to the counter, but there is something else Danny can’t quite label.

The counter, Danny sees, no one is operating, and even though he’s supposed to be making sure all the tables have condiments and properly wrapped silverware, he knows he’ll be the one who is yelled at if the man rings the bell requesting service.

He’ll probably get yelled at for not finishing checking the tables by the manager gets back, too, but he imagines there will be less complaints from the customers if they don’t have to deal with the bell interrupting their thoughts and conversations.

Quickly, he hurries over and slips behind the counter just as the man gets there.

“Hi, I’m Danny,” he greets. “What can I get you today?”

For a brief moment, the man simply stares, and Danny feels uneasiness building.

“I have some questions. My boss is very particular about his tea, and my colleague- Special requirements are necessary when it comes to what is safe to give her.”

“Okay,” Danny says. “That probably shouldn’t be a problem. Um, if you’ll wait here a minute, I can get a menu and the list of all the different ingredients we use.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

...

When Danny comes back, he sets them down. “Could you tell me exactly what you need to avoid or add to your friend’s order? It’s not listed, I know it should be, but it’s not, but we sometimes have alternatives. Rice instead of dairy or soy, and one of our cooks, who unfortunately isn’t here today, does great at making nut-free things taste almost the same as when they do have nuts.”

The man asks questions, and Danny isn’t going to let the quip sitting on his tongue fall out, but part of him is concerned the man is actually trying to find a drink where it’d be either: Impossible for someone to poison it without her knowing, or impossible for _her_ to poison it and give it to another person without them knowing.

Based on how the man specifically said she didn’t have any allergies or sensitivities to worry about, Danny finds himself leaning towards the latter.

Glancing at his watch, he knows a wave of customers is about to appear, and since whoever is supposed to be behind the counter is obviously not going to show up anytime soon-

“Look, I’m not asking anything about your friend or what she may or may not do-” Or if MI6 doesn’t have ways of both successfully detecting poisons and discreetly poisoning people- “but if you’re, say, worried about her giving her drink to someone and adding something, you know, like for a prank, do you know who might be a victim? And if so, do you know of anything they’d be able to immediately detect and would avoid? Like one of my mates, she’d never come near this place, even if it was three in the morning and I was stuck in the rain, because, the smell of coffee literally makes her sick to her stomach, and another mate of mine, in something I didn’t even think was possible, is allergic to tea. ‘Course, I don’t know if he could tell if something contains tea or not, me and Sara just don’t keep any tea around the flat.”

The man gives him another look, and Danny belatedly realises he really shouldn’t be telling the weaknesses of Sara and Pavel to a _spy_.

“Strawberries,” the man slowly says. “He has a sensitivity.”

“We have strawberries,” Danny tells him. “I could put in some big chunks, blend a few up and mix the drink so they stick to the walls and bottom of the cup, and I can write a warning on the cup about it having strawberries.”

“Yes,” the man says. “I’d like a medium yellow tea with plenty of strawberries in it and a label on the cup, please.”

“No problem." Ringing up the order, he asks, “And when it comes to your boss?”

Thankfully, the man quickly reels off an order.

If Danny had to guess, he’d say the man’s boss was on a strict diet.

The man’s order is out and he’s gone mere seconds before the rush descends.

…

Danny is surprised when the man appears the next day.

“A small Jasmine green tea with lemon, please,” he orders.

Nodding, Danny types it in. “Everything work out with your mate and the strawberries?”

For a few seconds, Danny thinks he’s not going to answer, but he does, “Yes, thank you.”

Smiling, Danny gives another nod.

He’s done some stupid things in his life, but coming across as nosey towards a spook has never and will never be one of them.

…

Danny supposes they make good Jasmine green tea with lemon.

Every day, at the same time, the man shows up, orders, and sits by himself in a corner with pen and paper in front of him.

Occasionally, if someone else is actually working, Danny will send them over to see if he needs or wants anything.

If there is no one else but Danny, he reasons the man can come up to the counter and ask if he needs or wants something, because, whatever he writes or draws, Danny knows he’s better off not knowing and not being close enough he could possibly accused of trying to find out.

…

One day, the man goes to the bathroom, and a woman strolls into the café and gives Danny a look he’s used to.

In something he desperately tries not to think about, a disturbing number of spooks do something of a double-take when they see him.

Surely, with all the terrorism and war crimes in the world, they don’t pay much attention to lists of people arrested for drugs crimes, disorderly conduct, and one case of non-violently resisting arrest.

Whether this would make them more or less likely to pay attention, he doesn’t know, but aside from the disorderly conduct, he somehow managed to get off above said charges with nothing but a few nights in a cell.

She orders a latte macchiato, and he’s just about to hand it to her when, suddenly, she’s pulled back, and the man takes her place. “Excuse me,” he politely says, “I’ll pay for that, but I need you to either add strawberries or throw it away. I also need to request, if you ever take her order in the future, you ensure strawberries are added.”

The man’s expression doesn’t change, but based on the subtle movement of his body, Danny knows he must have just been kicked or pinched.

She reappears beside the man, and Danny asks, “Miss?”

Without taking her glare off the man, she says, “Add the strawberries.”

As Danny is, he hears her accuse the man, “Old boy’s club.”

In response, the man produces his mobile and hands it to her. “I’ve changed the password.”

“Oh!” She happily wanders over to the man’s table and sits down.

Danny hands the cup to him and accepts the money.

“Thank you,” the man tells him, and there’s something vaguely apologetic in his tone and stance.

“No problem,” Danny assures him. “There are times my flatmates would probably literally try to kill one another if it weren’t for me or someone else interfering.”

Something Danny knows could be smile if not immediately quashed flickers across the man’s face, and he goes back to the table.

Danny watches them until they leave together. From what he can gather, the woman is trying to guess the password or just outright hack into the man’s mobile, and when they leave, she still has her nose buried in it. They walk together, but apparently, the man isn’t concerned about her navigation skills being impaired, because, aside from opening the door for her, he doesn’t make any move to physically guide her or even watch her as they walk.

…

“I’m sorry about yesterday.”

Surprised, Danny quickly says, “I told you, it’s fine. We all have friends who’d do stupid things if we weren’t there interfering.”

Usually, Danny is the stupid one, and Sara, Pavel, and/or Scottie are the sensible ones, but aside from Scottie, he’s definitely been on the reserve a few times.

“I don’t,” the man informs him. “She and I aren’t friends.”

“Oh.” Danny remembers all the times he’s referred to her as such. “Sorry. Anyway, still, we all have people in our lives who we have to try to keep in line for some reason or another. Trust me, after some of the things I’ve seen, what happened yesterday doesn’t even rate.”

“My usual, please,” the man says.

…

Pavel comes in, and grinning, Danny abandons the counter and goes over to hug him. “Finally come to take advantage of my employee discount,” he teases.

Rolling his eyes, Pavel pushes his head. “I’m not that desperate, yet. But remembering that time I had to keep relaying messages from that prick because you didn’t have a phone, I’m calling that in. I need to use the restaurant’s phone.”

“Do I want to ask?”

“Nope.”

Leading Pavel over, he says, “Got it. But seriously, if you need something to drink or want some biscuits-”

“We still have those cupcakes Dimitri’s girlfriend brought,” Pavel says. “Any boys here I should be worried about when it comes to you?”

Danny suddenly realises they just walked past the man’s table, and he considers looking back to see if the man heard.

He decides against it. Of all the things he’d rather no one know and has grudgingly accepted certain people in the government likely do anyways, being gay has never been one of them. If this loses them a customer, compared to most of the items, Jasmine green tea with lemon isn’t expensive.

Of course, the man always leaves a nice tip in the tip jar, but Danny usually gets the smallest amount when it’s divided.

“No,” he answers. “Most of the customers who come in are way too posh for me, not to mention, the ones who are gay are probably in the closet.”

According to Scottie, MI5 and 6 do officially accept openly gay people and transgender people, but it’s more a case of ‘We don’t discriminate, just if you happen to be someone we really want the public to believe we don’t discriminate against, you probably won’t get in, and if you do, you probably won’t make it far.’

He finds the phone, ignores the glare one of his co-workers gives him, starts cleaning the counter, and listens to Pavel speaking quiet Ukrainian.

Once Pavel’s done, he hugs Danny. “Thanks.”

“No problem. I’ll walk you out.”

They’re going past the man’s table when Pavel says, “Don’t worry. Someday, you will get a boyfriend we don’t want to assassinate.”

Wishing they’d taken the long way to the door, Danny nevertheless says, “Thank, Pavel. Uh, but, um, maybe don’t joke about assassination in here? We both know where most of these people work.”

Pavel should have indisputable British citizenship due to his mum, but Danny once heard a disturbing case of someone with dual citizenship being forced to renounce his citizenship of one of the countries by the country itself. He’s not sure of the details, but the idea countries can now do such a thing to people with dual citizenship has left him in a vague state of constant worry Pavel might somehow have it done to him. Either way, he’d suffer terribly. If he couldn’t go visit his family in Ukraine, it’d be literal torture, but he’s built his whole life in London and rebuilding in another country would doubtless be incredibly difficult.

Grinning, Pavel hugs him and leaves.

…

Instead of leaving at his usual time, the man comes over to the counter and hesitates.

A sinking feeling forms in Danny’s stomach, and he says, “Look, what you heard- my friend really was just joking. We would never try to assassinate anyone. Just a bad joke.”

The man gives him a look he’s not sure how to interpret it. “I’m aware that he was joking. I need a to-go-order, please.”

Danny knows the man didn’t come over here for this, but he responds, “Sure. What can I get you?”

He’s not surprised at all when the answer is a medium yellow tea with strawberries.

When he hands the order over, the man suddenly says, “The reason for the strawberries is preventive. My colleague is determined to hurt another colleague. She wants to hurt him because her priorities are unconventional. I imagine, if your friends did truly want to assassinate someone, theirs would be more understandable.”

Getting the feeling the man is trying to reassure him, Danny nods and smiles. “Thanks. It kind of depends. You’d think I’d eventually stop going for- I’ve made some bad choices when it comes to men. But no matter how many times I screw up, they always blame it all on the other man, even when things are actually my fault.”

Sara would hurt him if she heard him talking like this, he knows.

…

After the to-go-order, there seems to be a subtle hesitancy whenever the man comes in.

Finally, Danny says, “Look, if you want to ask or say something, just go ahead.”

“It’s not my business.”

Shrugging, Danny offers, “Say or ask it, anyways. We both- we both know where you work, yeah? I don’t know exactly what you do, and I’m definitely not asking. But I imagine you’re allowed to just have a normal conversation with someone who doesn’t work down the street. And even with there being a good chance you’ve heard this before: I don’t really have any secrets. If there’s something I really don’t want to tell you, I won’t, but otherwise, life’s too short to try to hide who I am.”

“You’ve made bad choices in men.”

“Yeah,” Danny agrees. “Not a deflection, but: Too many to tell you about before the next customer comes. At first, I was young and all alone, and now- well, I’m too romantic for my own good. I hate saying that, and I’m sure some people would disagree, but there it is. I’m always up for some fun, but I’m also always on the lookout for someone special. It’s just- I have a knack for picking out people who aren’t and not seeing it until it’s too late.”

“I’m sorry,” the man softly tells him.

He smiles. “Thanks.”

…

It’s not long after the conversation Danny realises: The Jasmine green tea with lemon isn’t the only reason the man comes.

Paying proper attention now, Danny can appreciate how the man looks at him, and he notices the man occasionally looks up from his work and seeks Danny out with his eyes.

Don’t even think about it, Danny tells himself when he starts thinking of maybe- No, he’s a spook, he’s probably not out, and you are not going to put Pavel, Sara, Scottie, and yourself in danger by trying anything.

Besides, he tries to tell himself, at best, you’d probably get a shag on a hotel bed and, at good but not great, you’d risk being fired or arrested for sex in the toilets.

It doesn’t help when, remembering how good the man looks, he knows he really wouldn’t mind if either was all he got.

…

Despite his determination to not push things, Danny supposes he wouldn’t be him if he didn’t.

“So, new thing,” he announces. “I’m writing names on the cups. Probably won’t in the future, but today, I am. What should I put on yours?”

If the man sees through this or thinks it’s absolutely ridiculous or both, his customary expression doesn’t change. “Alex Turner,” he answers.

“Got it,” Danny says. He writes the name. “By the way, I’m Danny Holt. Nice to meet you, Alex.”

He almost drops the cup when Alex gives him a small but undeniable smile. “Nice to meet you, Danny.”

…

One day, during Danny’s break, Alex asks, “Do you ever buy anything with your employee discount?”

“Not really. The owner doesn’t care if we eat a biscuit or two or have some tea or coffee as long as we don’t overdo it or go for the really expensive items. Occasionally, when we have leftover blueberry pie, I’ll put some money in the register and take it home to Sara. If Pavel wants sweets, he just has to smile and wink at one of his workmate’s girlfriend, and she’ll supply the whole crew with enough for a week or two.”

“What about you,” he asks. “Except for when you’re trying to prevent your mate from poisoning someone, you never order anything different. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I’m just wondering if there’s anything else you might want.”

“She’s not- My tastes are strange.”

“Really,” Danny asks in interest. “How?”

Alex gives him a not-quite suspicious look, and Danny immediately holds up his hands. “Innocent question you don’t have to answer.”

Shaking his head, Alex states, “My job bothers you.”

“No,” Danny says. “No, it doesn’t. I’ll tell you straight out, I’m no saint. I’ve seen more than one jail cell from the inside, and if weren’t for sheer dumb luck, I would have seen them for a lot longer than I did. But trying to find out what intelligence agencies and their employees do is something I’ve never really wanted to know and have never tried to find out. I don’t want to give the impression I’m trying to do that now.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex says. “I didn’t mean to imply anything. No one- people aren’t interested in such mundane details about me.”

Oh, Danny thinks. Sorrow fills him at the thought, I knew you were alone, but I didn’t realise you were so lonely.

“I guess that depends on whose definition of mundane you’re going by,” he comments. “The big things are important, but me, I’ve always been more focused on the little when it comes to first getting to know people.”

“Me and Sara became friends because we both ended up in a different coffee shop a few years back. There was a terrible thunderstorm, neither of us had money for the bus, and she was literally curled up in the corner, clutching her stomach with one hand and about to pinch her nose off with the other. I think she was little afraid I was going to try something, but I sat down, told her I was gay, showed her some pictures to prove it, and convinced her to let me help her up. We went into the bathroom, soaked toilet paper with water and soap and very carefully stuck them up her nose. Then, we sat in there and talked about what smells she did like until the storm stopped.”

“Then, when she brought Pavel around, me and him bonded over the fact neither of us could have pets when we were growing up. And originally, they became friends when they were both in a bar cheering for different footie teams on the telly. They deny it, but I think they were both kicked out. Instead of deciding to risk arrest, though, she brought him over so they could keep arguing and try to kill each in peace.”

“And my oldest friend, Scottie, we met in a club. He bought me a drink, and at first, we talked about safe things. Then, a little further in, we talked about parents and some of the things we did when we were little to cope. He’s older than me, but our differences help keep the friendship interesting. Right now, though, he’s doing some business in America and won’t be back until after Christmas. Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to talk much.”

Despite meaning what he said about not really having any secrets, one of the few things he’s never going to tell anyone in the middle of a café is the story of what made him and Scottie truly become friends.

Alex is looking at him with a soft, beautiful expression.

Danny wishes he had some idea what he said or did to cause it.  

“I like mixing different teas together,” Alex volunteers. “I don’t particularly care for sweets.”

“That’s cool. Would you like to try that sometime? We have loads of different teas. I don’t think the price would be too different from your usual, but if you didn’t like one, you wouldn’t have to pay, I’d just make a note that we shouldn’t try that one again.”

“Maybe,” is all Alex is willing to say.

…

Here’s what you know about him, Danny tries to tell himself: He’s a spy, he has a friend he seems genuinely convinced will poison another person if given the opportunity, he likes almost anything with lemon and can’t stand anything with cherry, and he always throws his cup in the recycling bin rather than the rubbish.

Here’s what you don’t know about him: What being a spy actually means, if he’s out, and oh, yeah, anything truly important about him except the whole spy thing.

Danny likes finding out about the little things, but he knows not finding out the big things first has often caused him incredible trouble.

…

One day, Alex comes in early with company.

It’s another spook, a man around Scottie’s age.

“Just Jasmine green tea with lemon, today,” Alex says.

“Sure. And you, sir?”

Smiling warmly, the man orders an iced Americano.

When Danny hands the orders over, a puzzled expression crosses the man’s face, and he touches Alex’s. “Alex?”

Oh, Danny thinks.

He ducks down to get a shaker of sugar, and when he comes back, the man and his companion are sitting and talking.

What, he angrily demands of himself, did you expect?

Occasionally, he feels Al- whoever’s eyes on him.

Not the first time someone has given a fake name. Not like you’ve neither been guilty of it, either, his thoughts add.

Another part tries to offer, Maybe it was legitimately for reasons of national security?

If this were a spy novel, he might be able to convince himself of this, but Scottie once showed him the websites of several different intelligence agencies. Some of them had pictures of people with full names and, in some cases, personal contact information listed.

Then, Scottie had shown him how to find Area 51 with either Google Maps or Earth.

He’s still convinced there is a major flaw in agencies dealing in espionage having actual websites, but major flaw or not, it’s reality. No spook is going to give a fake name to a barista unless they want to.

He sees Al- whoever and his boss getting ready to leave and gives a silent sigh of relief before going out to make sure the empty tables are properly stocked.

“Danny-”

Oh, hell, is his thought when he glances over at the door and sees the older spook is nowhere to be seen.

Of course, Alex would move so quietly he can sneak up on someone. Danny gets the feeling, even if Alex weren’t a spook, he could do it.

_His name isn’t-_

Hastily grabbing a set of silverware, he turns. “Uh, if you need anything, talk to Teika, I’m sorry, but I really need to-”

Alex (not his name!) doesn’t touch him, but he does move to physically block him. “Danny, please.”

“Look, whatever it is, it’s cool. Fine. But I really do need to-”

“My full name is Alistair. I’m not close to the people I work with, but I prefer Alex. I always have.”

“Oh,” he breathes out and almost drops the silverware at the relief flowing through him. Ignoring the part screaming about how utterly stupid he was to so quickly jump to conclusions, he smiles and looks into Alex’s eyes. “I understand.”

Alex nods but continues to hold himself tentatively.

Carefully, Danny reaches over to touch his shoulder.

Alex wiggles slightly but looks at him with a soft, unafraid expression.

Clasping the shoulder, Danny continues, “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions. Some people don’t go by their nicknames at work, I know. In school, some teachers insisted on calling me Daniel. Um, I didn’t cause trouble with you from your superior, did I?”

“No,” Alex assures him. “Thank you. I- I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Danny almost points out there’s no need for Alex to feel compelled not to outside of maybe common human decency, but instead he simply squeezes the shoulder again, repeats, “I understand,” and lets go.

He immediately wants to put his hand back.

…

When Alex orders another medium yellow tea with strawberries to go, Danny asks, “What name should I put on it?”

Alex shakes his head.

“Okay,” Danny agrees. He writes the usual **Warning: Contains Strawberries**.

“You always call her my ‘mate’, my friend,” Alex suddenly says. “But she and I aren’t.”

“Right, sorry,” Danny says. “I’ll try to remember in the future.”

“But you don’t believe me.”

For a long moment, Danny looks at him.

Carefully, he says, “I don’t think you’re lying, Alex, or even just trying to hide the truth. Maybe you and I are just working under different definitions. It seems to me you like her. I don’t know if you trust her or not, and I don’t know how much you actually know her, but you like her. I’d say she likes you, too, but to be honest, I’m not sure she’s the type who really likes people. More like, despite you refusing to let her poison someone, she doesn’t seem to mind being around you the way she does most people.”

“You’re very good at reading people.”

Danny shrugs. “Sometimes. Someone once said I have strong intuition. But if I either had better or had decided to listen it to more, I wouldn’t have near as many bad choices under my belt. I’m still not exactly sure which one it was.”

“What does it tell you about me?”

“I’m about to go on break, can you stay for a bit longer?”

Alex nods.

…

They sit down, and Danny considers his words.

“You’re an innocent. I know that might sound strange considering your job, but that’s what I see when I look at you. Innocence.” He hesitates for a moment. “That and loneliness. Maybe a different kind from mine, but I can still recognise it. I think I did from the first or second time you came in, but it wasn’t until we first talked about you mixing teas that I really started to see how deep it went. I’m sorry. I hate seeing people feeling like that, and sometimes, I know what to do, but when it comes to you and Scottie- I really don’t.”

Alex nods. “Is your innocence the same as mine?”

“I’m not innocent,” Danny tells him. And what, he doesn’t ask, could have possibly given you the idea I am?

Alex looks as if he finds the words utterly nonsensical. “How do you view yourself?”

Danny shrugs. “I try to be nice. When things are good, it’s easy. But when things get bad, usually through my own fault, I have a tendency to lash out. When we did Sudoku on the cups, you always finished in less than five minutes, so, I’m guessing you like maths. I’ve had people tell me before that, mathematically, the ideas of soulmates is unlikely and has all these unpleasant implications attached if they are real, but so what? I believe in them.”

He sighs. “Except, like I’ve said, my choice in men has hardly ever turned out to be good. I like sex, and I don’t need a relationship to enjoy it. But when I promised monogamy, I always kept it. It was either them who broke it or just refused to believe that I hadn’t. Some of them- I don’t know if I missed the warning signs or choose to ignore them, but it would have been better if I hadn’t.”

Leaning back, he sees Alex is accessing him with calm eyes.

“And aside from all that, I’ve done illegal things before. Some of it, I feel guilty for, and some of it, I don’t. Probably shouldn’t admit this to you, but there’s a fair chance I will again.”

“So, in conclusion, I’m a messed up person. Not completely bad, not completely good, but I honestly don’t remember when the last time I could have truly been called innocent when it came to anything was.”

Thoughts flicker through Alex’s eyes, too fast for Danny to make sense of, and he waits for them to settle and wonders what Alex’s response is going to be.

He hopes it isn’t overly-kind and is afraid it will be.

 _I once risked my health and the health of others, I’ve never manipulated anyone into sex but have used sex to get things before, and I have trouble with clip-on ties, never mind the mess I make of proper ones_ , are things he doesn’t want to have to find himself saying.

Well, he reflects, okay, obviously, the last one-

“When it comes to me, in one way, you’re right. I’ve never- been with anyone in such an intimate way.”

It takes a minute for Danny to process the words, and then, he takes in the tone and way Alex is holding himself.

Smiling, he waits until Alex gives up and looks him in the eyes. “That’s okay, Alex. It’s not a bad thing. If you ever decide to, I know you won’t have any trouble finding someone. Just- even if it’s not someone serious, try to pick someone who will make it good for you, alright? And if you don’t want to ever do it, then, you shouldn’t. People who go on about how important sex is, sometimes, I think they don’t really understand what that means themselves. Sex should always be about fun or love or both together, but there are loads of other ways besides it to show and have those things, right?”

The look settling on Alex’s face-

Danny sighs. “You like me. I’m not saying in what way, because, I haven’t quite figured that out. But you like me. That’s nice, but you really are seeing something- misinterpreting things. Like I said, I can be nice. Right here, right now, it’s easy. It doesn’t cost me anything, so, why not?”     

He has to wince at the words and wonders, What in the hell are you doing?

The realisation is sharp and completely unexpected, I’m doing what Scottie did.

If he thought he could do so without confusing Alex, he’d thank him, but mostly, he’s too busy feeling his world reel as signs he (yet again) missed are coming together in his mind.

He never would have thought Scottie viewed him as anything but an exasperating kid he was inexplicably fond of who needed a bit of protecting.

Except, he was a screwed up kid desperate for anything even resembling a bit of kindness, and even before the ad, he would've easily given Scottie anything.

Alex isn’t screwed up anywhere near the way he is, but Alex is shy and lonely. His closest friend seems to be a woman he constantly has to stop from poisoning someone and who apparently wants to hack into his phone.

It wouldn’t last, of course, but whatever Danny wanted -a shag, a relationship, other things he’s never been interested in- he could get from Alex. In the beginning, he couldn’t have, but at some point, something changed, and right now, he could.

He wonders if this is why there are so many stories of spooks getting in trouble because of some man or woman. He’d always thought, surely, such things couldn’t happen but on extremely rare occasions in real life.

Scottie once said something about spooks being people, too, and Danny hadn’t understood why he said it as if he were trying to get Danny to understand something.

He and I are going to need to have a long talk when he gets back, Danny realises. Until then, though-

Reaching over, he carefully touches Alex’s hand, and Alex moves it so Danny’s palm is resting on top of his.

“Not a date,” Danny says. “That’s not what I’m asking. But when you get some free time, would you like to do something? I don’t know what you like to do for fun, but maybe we could do it together, if you wanted. It’s just- I think we could both use a friend right now.”

Alex nods. “I’d like that. Would this weekend work?”

“Sure,” Danny says. “Here- I’ll go get a pen and give you my address and mobile number. It’d be best for you to come around after-”

Alex’s gentle hand around his wrist stops him when he starts to get up.

“Numbers, Danny, I have no problem with. You don’t need to write any of it down.”


End file.
